Hidden dimensions

Poetry for Palestine

 

My first son Hassan

Was born on April the 9th

 

You might think

So what… why are you saying it

With such a gloomy tune

What is wrong with 9th of April?

You have to be a Palestinian

To understand

For on the 9th of April 1948

The massacre of Deir Yassin

Took place

Where every man women and child

Of that peaceful farming village

Was killed in cold blood

No one survived

Except those

Who pretended to be dead

As we celebrate the birth of a new born

With joy

We mourn and grief

Lost loved ones

In our midst

Nothing comes insular

Nothing is disjointed

No single colours

The fabric of our lives

Makes the most amazing tapestry

If you hold it backwards

Looking at the wrong side

You’ll see a mirror image

Of shades of a blurred picture

With loops… knots and…

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